America 

And the rockets red glare, the bombs bursting in air, 
gave truth to the night that death was everywhere. 
there are smiles in the crowd, and the smell of 
patriotism is in the air. take a breath and it will bring
you to singing.  for death? for victory? The faceless 
crowd lights up at every high point.
celebrating victory, and the rotting carcasses that lye
in our conscience.  America, America; what a sick culture we live in.


~the search~

searching to find something between the lines
that makes me want to fit in
slapped with a label everywhere I go-thought
I got a way....from myself, no, you can’t do that.
smiling, empty smiles--means nothing
to hope they get a smile back
but I only smile when i’ve got a reason to;
wasn’t that the  way it always was?
sinking into corporate, hairspray smell.
the ground is lose. the surface cracks.
they won.  I lost. it’s all, or nothing.

written for a girl who didn’t want to write

Her secret shadows she holds in
thinking of all the places
she’s never been
the shadows shade the hurt inside
finding some place out there to hide
and in the dark of the night
of the light of the day
she hides herself.  and she will pay;
the great price of shadows lost 
her soul will be taken to cover the cost
she looks the same 
but never hides
for she has nothing left inside.

MEDIA GENERATION

rust, wood, meaningless objects intoxicating
freedom--i don’t want that; too much to
want to not have. too soon to tell to haven’t 
been told. search for the truth going no
where, coming back to yourself.  not your 
friends, idols, not anyone?
you’re your own divine----entity
remember when we made sense? half-assed
dreams and candyswirled thoughts. 
is your dream your dream or an episode of 
Family Ties--did we ever make sense?
were the candy-swirled thoughts yours?
our lives are taking form and all 
we’ve got is questions. the voice of a 
new generation? oh no, the voice of a
media generation.  borrowed thoughts are 
useless when our thoughts are all
we have left to hang onto.



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